Page 97 of Just a Plot Twist
But I’m not. I just feel exhausted.
“We need some time,” Grandpa says, then glances at Grandma. “Sweetheart,” he says to her. “I think we’ve waited long enough to—” His face screws up in pain.
She flicks a glance at him as she wrings her hands together. And then I notice how suddenly lost she seems. What is going on? Her nod is nearly imperceptible. She stares at the floor.
She seems so small. So bent and vulnerable that I swallow hard against the growing ache in my throat.
Something’s wrong.
“Claire, we wanted to tell you and Sophie together, but I think we just need to tell you now,” Grandpa says. “We’ll inform Sophie later.”
“Tell us about what?” I manage.
Grandpa looks at Grandma again, then eases his arm around her shoulders. His bulk and strength make her seem even smaller.
“Your grandmother was diagnosed with dementia,” he says, his voice strained. “We’re facing some pretty frightening possibilities in the near future.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Grandma’s not…” I stare at her. “You’re not…forgetful.”
“She’s done well to compensate for the memory loss, but it’s there. And there are other symptoms,” Grandpa says. “She’s undergone extensive testing. It’s early, but they’re sure it’s only going to get worse.”
“No,” I say again. My eyes sting and my limbs jitter. After several moments, I finally find some words. “I’m so sorry.” I meet their gazes. Grandma’s is far off, blank. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism for what’s going on. Maybe it’s the disease itself.
“We’re going to do all we can to help her.” Grandpa’s voice has regained some of its strength.
“I do appreciate all you’ve done for me,” I say, my voice trembling. “You’ve believed in me and cared for me all these years.” My grief is a stone, one that I can barely hold up. Breathing is a burden. Thinking is impossible.
Finally, Grandma glances at me and then at her husband. “I need to lie down.”
Grandpa kisses her cheek. “Of course, sweetheart.” He helps her off the sofa and tosses a glance at me. “We’ll be in touch.”
They don’t like shows of affection or emotion, but I can’t control my tears as I gather them both in a hug. Uncharacteristically, they don’t stiffen but instead soften into my arms a bit before Grandpa breaks the embrace and, with a nod, guides Grandma out of the room.
There are no words. Nothing I can offer. Nothing that will make this better.
Something inside of me breaks on the long walk out the door and down the steps of their porch. Everything makes so much sense now. No wonder they threw the biggest celebration of their lives and went on their dream vacation. No wonder she’s seemed so unhappy lately. Isn’t irritability one of the symptoms?
I’m shaking the whole drive home.
Chapter 30
Benson
The clapping from the crowd is light. On any autumn Friday night in Longdale, you’ll get a huge crowd vying for blood at the high school football games. Football: the sacred rite of small towns everywhere.
But tonight? It’s not fall. It’s only the end of a two-week spring camp, and we’re here to support Alec in the team scrimmage.
Still, it’s the first football my family and I have been able to watch since the Super Bowl in February, so we’re soaking it up. Thomas, my brothers, and I are all here. And I brought Cinnamon along. My brothers’ wives, as diehard as they are during the regular season, had other commitments. Except for Oakley, who’s on the bench with the team, offering her services as a physical therapist and keeping Alec from getting a little too passionate when one of his running backs drops the ball.
There aren’t many people here, and it’s just as well. I’m not in a sociable mood.
Thomas, who’s been on the sidelines on his phone, pockets it and climbs to the top row of bleachers.
I belong here, as strange as that sounds. I like feeling that way, but it doesn’t change the sense of doom I have about the last time Claire and I spoke.
Thomas lets himself down heavily next to me on the bench. “The injunction went through. Judge granted it a few minutes ago,” he says quietly, and already there’s a softening in his back and shoulders. He shoots out a breath. “Peter can finally be stopped.”
“Does that mean that he can’t start his own business now?”
